


Sharing Beauty in a Storm

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [57]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Thunderstorms, First Kiss, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Holding Hands, M/M, Open Ending, Thunderstorms, magical plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 14:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18966886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: When a thunderstorm rolls in unexpectedly, Neville rushes down to the greenhouses to look at Professor Sprout's latest experiment. He doesn't expect to find Malfoy there.





	Sharing Beauty in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadztone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadztone/gifts).



> This is based on a prompt for Drizzle fest like a year ago(?) that I claimed but then had to pull out of when RL got a little hectic. But the idea really stuck with me since then so, it may be super late XD but I finally got around to writing it anyway.
> 
> Prompt: Neville finds Draco hiding in under a table in the herbology classroom. He’s terrified of thunderstorms and it came on too swiftly for him to get back to the main part of the castle. Neville coaxes him out and shows Draco why he is there. Professor Sprout has a magical plant that only blooms during thunderstorms, and every boom and flash causes the petals to vibrate and produce colors (or sounds?) that are beautiful and mesmerizing. Draco is so enthralled that he forgets to be afraid of the storm.

By the time Neville reached greenhouse five, he was soaked. The wind and rain had lashed at him so severely there wasn’t a dry patch of cloth on him. A flash of lightning lit up the darkened sky while he tugged ineffectively at the door to the greenhouse. The wind was working against him, blowing the door shut as soon as he had it open even a the tiniest crack.

He indulged in a fit of swearing that would make Seamus proud. With his clothes completely sodden, trying to retrieve his wand from the pocket of his robes was ridiculously difficult. Thunder rumbled around him and he looked up as his hand finally found his wand in the sopping folds of his robe.

The clouds that had rolled over the grounds in mere minutes were so dark it was almost like night. A brilliant sunny day had turned to chaos so fast Neville had passed dozens of sopping wet students rushing indoors while he’d struggled against the flow to get out. They’d been so focused on getting inside they hadn’t cast him a second glance. 

A good thing, since he didn’t really want to share what he was about. 

Another flash of lightning illuminated the grounds as he pulled his wand free, the motion jerky and difficult given the way his sodden robes clung to the wood.

Just after he spelled the door open, the wind tried to blow it shut, and he rushed in so fast he almost fell over. 

The door slammed shut behind him and he sagged against it.

Inside the greenhouse, the sound of the thunderstorm seemed far away. The wind was a distant whistle, the rain a gentle patter. If he hadn’t been out in it, he would have thought it a light shower until a crack of thunder rang out.

The sound reminded him how little time he had, and he quickly dried himself off. If the storm had rolled in so quickly, it might move on just as fast. He hurried down between work tables, distracted enough that he wasn’t careful in the darkened space.

When he tripped and fell, he turned to grab the edge of the table to pull himself up and came face to face with Malfoy.

Lightning flashed at the same time, and Neville made an altogether mortifying sound as he scrambled backwards. His heart was pounding in his throat from the fright, and he cursed under his breath as the ground vibrated under him from a rumble of thunder.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he said, placing his hand on his chest and willing his pulse to slow down. “What are you  _ doing _ ?” 

Malfoy had his eyes screwed shut, but he opened them quickly and moved out from under the table. He quickly brushed himself off and stood stiffly, turned away from Neville.

“I dropped something when I rushed in here,” he said. “It came on so sudden, this was closer than the castle.”

Neville almost scoffed, but there was something off about his voice. And the way he was holding himself. His posture wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as perfect and tall. There was a curved hunch to his shoulders, and as lightning flashed outside, Neville saw his hands curl into fists and that hunch of his shoulders worsen.

Thunder came as a loud crack followed by a long rumble, and Malfoy  _ flinched _ .

For a moment, it seemed so ridiculous that Neville almost laughed. Malfoy was afraid of the weather. Malfoy was hiding under a  _ table _ . High and mighty, better than everyone else, even if he was less of a prat about it after the war, and he was afraid of a little thunderstorm.

Then Neville caught up with his own thoughts and cringed. 

That was beneath him. He pushed himself up to his feet and watched Malfoy’s body tremble. Neville may never have been afraid of storms, but he was afraid of plenty else, and even if Malfoy had been one of those to bully him, Neville couldn’t do the same in return. Not knowing how it felt. Not after they’d all, including Malfoy, vowed to do better on returning for their final year.

“Well, since you’re here, you might as well come look,” he said, turning and continuing to the covered plots near the back.

When Professor Sprout had confided in him what she was working on, he’d been touched he was the only one beyond the staff to know. That she deemed him talented and special enough to be in on the secret. He didn’t much want to show Malfoy, but he was there, and it would be a distraction. He wasn’t so cruel he would deny Malfoy an escape from the kind of fear that made a person shake. 

“I only came in here for the shelter,” Malfoy scoffed from across the room. “I don’t care a whit about your stupid plants.”

Lightning flashed over them and Malfoy’s last word rose in pitch. Neville was tempted to leave him to his fear, just for a moment. But it didn’t feel right. For all Malfoy had been a source of misery for Neville, he had apologised in September, and, if not become friendly, had at least ceased to torment him. Sometimes he was even civil.

“Only a handful of people have seen what you could see now,” Neville said, removing the covers with care. “If you’d rather wait out the storm without a distraction, suit yourself. But it’s going to be a lot less boring over here.”

Malfoy snorted somewhere behind him, but Neville was already distracted. He pulled the last cover away and forgot to breathe for a moment.

They were more beautiful than he’d imagined.

“What is it with you and plants?” Malfoy drawled, suddenly appearing at his side.

Neville was about to tell him, but the thunderstorm beat him to it. Outside, lightning flashed and then thunder rumbled, and the plant before them began to glow. The leaves trembled, but the petals became vibrant with colour. So vibrant they seemed to glow around the edges. As the last rumbles of thunder faded, the colour pulsed and faded, and then pulsed brighter, only to fade even more.

“Beautiful,” Neville breathed. 

“It reacts to the—?”

Malfoy cut himself off with a low yelp as the greenhouse was illuminated with another flash of lightning. The petals glowed brighter and Neville leaned closer. Thunder made the leaves shake again, and then at the first pulse of fading colour, a burst of sweet, delicate air met his nose.

With great care, he reached out and gently touched a fading petal. There was the faintest vibration to the touch.

Beside him, Malfoy stepped closer. “It smells like...like...I can’t place it,” he said with a frown, leaning closer himself.

Neville turned to catch a much more relaxed expression take over his features as he inhaled, but then lightning flashed again and his face contorted. He jerked back.

With a reflex he couldn’t begin to explain, Neville reached out and grabbed his hand. Malfoy tried to pull away, but Neville guided his hand until his fingers were brushing the petals of one flower, just in time for the low rumble of thunder that set the flowers vibrating as they pulsed through different shades.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Neville said, hoping the next lightning strike came soon. Professor Sprout had told him they only gained in intensity and vibrancy the longer a storm went on, until they dazzled the senses.

Malfoy’s fingers twitched in his grasp. “I don’t need you to hold my hand!” he hissed, trying to tug free. “I’m not a  _ child _ .”

“Feel the way they vibrate,” Neville said, ignoring his statement entirely. “It forces out the scent. Once they’re mature, it’ll be how they—”

“I’m not  _ weak _ ,” Malfoy continued, finally tugging his hand free. “I just got caught out in it and—”

Neville reached out and covered his mouth. “Hush,” he said, straining his hears. “Another round of lightning and we might hear them.”

Malfoy tried to tug Neville’s hand away from his mouth, making muffled sounds of outrage. Neville looked around. The rest of the greenhouse was even darker than when he’d come in. The storm was worsening. 

But where they stood, they were illuminated by the soft glow of the petals.

At the next flash of light, Malfoy stopped struggling and went utterly still. Neville looked down as the petals glowed brighter than before. He had to strain to ear over the distant sounds of the storm and Malfoy’s harsh breathing, but he thought he could, for a moment, hear a quiet hum.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered, as thunder cracked around them and the petals pulsed in the aftermath. 

He looked back to Malfoy, but Malfoy’s eyes were fixed on the pulse and fade of the petals. Their glow was reflected in his eyes until he almost looked otherworldly. He’d stopped shaking.

Lightning flashed again, and he only flinched a little, eyes still fixed on the flowers. Neville was sure he could hear it now, a gentle hum, not unlike the way his mother sometimes hummed to herself when he visited.

Malfoy tugged at his hand and Neville let it fall away from his mouth. “It sounds like birds,” Malfoy said softly. “Like in the morning, when you’re not quite listening yet and they’re just a background noise, not yet sharp and loud.”

Neville frowned. “I hear a hum.”

“It’s soothing,” Malfoy continued, reaching out on his own to brush his finger against a fading petal. “Beautiful.”

“Aside from Professor Sprout, we’re the only ones to actually see them,” Neville whispered, feeling an odd sort of warmth to hear Malfoy call them beautiful when he’d called them stupid only moments earlier. “She’s been developing them in secret.”

The room lit up again, followed by a harsh boom of thunder. Malfoy flinched again and Neville grabbed his hand before he thought better of it. He kept his eyes on the flowers, but he didn’t miss the way Malfoy stiffened from the gesture.

“I’m not afraid of storms,” Malfoy muttered a few moments later, fingers brushing along a petal that pulsed with colour beneath his touch. The sound of humming was even louder now, filling Neville with a sense of calm that was at odds with the weather that was the real source of it. Or the sounds of birds for Malfoy, he supposed.

He’d have to ask Professor sprout about that, though he thought he was starting to understand how it worked.

“You are,” he said softly, squeezing the hand he was holding. “But that’s alright, you know. We’re all afraid of something. Can you still hear birds?”

Malfoy didn’t respond at first, but then he turned from the flowers and looked Neville in the eye. “Of all people, I can’t believe you’re not taking the chance to—”

“I know what it is to be afraid of something other people think is stupid,” Neville interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of that. “Surely you remember.”

The silence between them felt awkward, until another flash of lightning and rumble of thunder brought with them the sound of humming and the gentle, glowing pulse of colour. The tension in Malfoy’s expression bled away.

For a moment, he looked so beautiful Neville felt a bit breathless. The flowers were glowing brighter than before, and the colours pulsed faintly over Malfoy’s skin. 

It was several moments later he realised he was still holding Malfoy’s hand. He really should let go. It was getting a little inappropriate. It was hinting at something about himself he’d tried to keep a lid on precisely so people like Malfoy wouldn’t use it against him. 

Malfoy didn’t look so scared now, though with each new flash of lightning, he flinched and hunched his shoulders. Neville really should step back and let his hand go. He was here to look at rare flowers, not ponder how beautiful Malfoy looked.

“You’re so strange,” Malfoy finally said. “The way you care so much about things like plants. The way you just forgive people without ever trying to get back at them. You don’t...you don’t even hate me for it, do you? You could have been horrible but you’re being kind. You...I don’t deserve it.”

Neville felt suddenly, strangely, naked under his gaze, and looked down at the flowers instead. He’d seen enough in the first months back at Hogwarts to know Malfoy was truly sorry for what he’d done, and that he was genuine about changing. He still made a lot of jokes, still rubbed people the wrong way, but it wasn’t the same.

Maybe Neville shouldn’t brush the past away as quickly and easily as he did. Maybe he should hold onto it a little longer, be angry a little longer, be slower to forgive, like the others. But then where would he be? Stagnant. Static. He didn’t want that. He wanted to change and grow and  _ live _ freely. 

Once so afraid he’d be awkward and bumbling, terrified and shy and weak forever, he knew that wasn’t true now.

“We all grow and change,” he said quietly. “Life is better when we let that happen, not stand in the way.”

Malfoy shifted as lightning broke the sky again. “That sounds surprisingly wise, but then you could be talking about plants again.”

Neville looked up in time to see Malfoy shudder through the rumble of thunder. Malfoy looked back at him, open and not hiding. The sight felt like it was probably as rare as the flower illuminating them with a soft, pulsing glow and filling their air with a soothing hum. Or soothing birdsong. Neville had a feeling Malfoy didn’t let anyone else know he was afraid of thunderstorms. And certainly would never let them  _ see _ it.

Neville then realised he was still holding his hand. Malfoy didn’t pull away.

The air between them started to feel heavy with something the longer they looked at each other. The flowers still glowed, still pulsed, still pushed out a sweet, floral scent and the soothing, personalised sounds. 

Lightning still filled the sky, thunder still shook the earth.

Malfoy still flinched, he still shook, but he didn’t stop looking at Neville, and Neville started to think maybe it was time to be brave again.

When he leaned forward, Malfoy met him halfway. Their noses bumped, Malfoy flinched at another flash of lightning, but then their lips brushed. 

It was as beautiful as the flower and storm that brought them together.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did justice to that beautiful prompt!! In any case, I really enjoyed writing it, I was having a super crappy flare day yesterday and writing this was a lovely distraction =) 
> 
> Thanks to TheLightFury for the alpha read and enthusiasm!!! I might have been too anxious to post it otherwise XD
> 
> **This is a finished fic, please do not ask me to write more.


End file.
